


Ain’t My Fault

by khanumoftheworld



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Sugar Daddy, This is gonna be dark, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake is like a sugar daddy, Vaginal Fingering, because he spoils your ass with lots of money, its shameless yessir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khanumoftheworld/pseuds/khanumoftheworld
Summary: Reader is a broke almost college student who urgently needs money, when one day, a chance encounter leads her to realise that Tim Drake is Red Robin. Cue the reader using her cunning to get a job at Wayne Enterprises, though she faces some extremely unexpected job hazards in return. (ie. multiple assassination attempts and threats from everyone )
Relationships: Tim Drake/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys this is my first fic! I really really love Tim because he's the perfect blend of snark, very relatable awkwardness and pure ruthlessness. And I have had this plot bunny since last year! So I decided to write something hehe thanks for reading!  
> Title is from Zara Larson’s song “Ain’t my Fault” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! This story will no longer be in 1st person POV cos I realised that its nicer to read when it's not in 1st person POV . Oop :P  
> I actually am keen on this story so I'll be putting in more effort into delivering decent chapters! Thanks for reading <3

Gotham City. a literal shithole, but its not like you could go anywhere else. Trekking home from school, you entered the run down apartment building that you were living in with your Dad. I hated him, but he was family. Family is family, you grumbled. Though, Dad had gotten crazier than ever after losing his jobs, making life a living hell for my mother, who later refused to come home and left for Metropolis. Your sister? That bitch bailed as soon as she could, to Bludhaven, to work as a cop. As for you? You were stuck living in a crappy two room apartment with your verbally abusive dad who worked odd jobs just to make ends meet. To say you were lonely, well, would be a massive understatement. No friends, limited family. It was you against the world. 

“Dad? “ you called, as you opened the door to my crappy apartment. Glancing around, the apartment was empty. Wearily looking for any clues as to where your dad could’ve gone, you spotted a piece of paper.

“Y/N,  
I’ve left for Bludhaven, to get a job there and keep an eye on your sister. Don’t wait for me to come back. You’re finally an adult now, so I hope you can take care of yourself. I’ve left some money in your bank account. It should tide you over for a few weeks. Until then, you better get a job.” 

Tears marred my vision as you read the letter again. “No…” you whimpered. This could not be happening. You were being disowned. In favour of your older sister, who could clearly take better care of herself than you ever could. "That’s right. Father wanted to room in with my sister, instead of crappy , crime-ridden, psychopath infested Gotham. And of course he would abandon me. He had always hated me, because we could never agree on anything." I thought to myself, my cheeks warming up from anger and pain. You let out a scream in the empty apartment as you considered my options. Fuck. You couldn't think of anything. The pain in your chest was too much, as you struggled to not just collapse on the floor and shut down. Fuck. you had to drown the pain. You needed comfort. 

So here you were, at night, in a club. Wearing a low-cut, tight black dress, you were dancing to forget. To forget the pain, the loneliness, the abandonment. Thats when you felt a warm body behind me, while the music was pounding my ears. It was a really tall dude. Standing at 6 feet, over my pathetic frame. Well, considered pathetic for your father. He had been very vocal about hating your short stature, as even your sister was 5’6. Oh well. This big guy seemed to enjoy you grinding on him to the music. Taking a good look at his face, you were pretty shocked. Dude was HOT. 'What?? Why would a hot guy like that want me ??'   
He had black hair, a strong jaw, and eyes that seemed to flash green in the red lighting of the club. 

"Let me buy you a drink, baby." He whispered from above you, in a husky voice.  
'Damn, this is tempting.' you thought. But you didn't trust easily. To say you had trust issues would be a massive understatement. No, it was more of a 'never trust anyone' kind of mindset you had adopted.  
"No thanks. Bye." you abruptly said, feeling incredibly stupid and awkward for standing up a specimen of a man.   
Surprisingly, not the worst decision you've made.

You promptly left the club. You passed by a group of young adults , perhaps a few years older than you. These weirdos were hungrily leering at you. Rolling your eyes, you avoided eye contact, put on a grumpy face, and quickened your pace, trying to avoid trouble. You had enough trouble in your life to last a lifetime. “Hey baby! Show me what those lips do!” one of them yelled, followed by catcalls from the others.  
'Oh no.' You ignored them, breaking into a semi-jog as you tried to distance myself as far as you could from them.  
“Where ya going , bitch? Come here, play with us little kitten! “ the tall, skinny leader of the gang called out, before you heard footsteps behind me. Oh no , oh FUCK. You should have just accepted the drink from the beautiful stranger in the club. Sprinting away as fast as you could in 3 inch platforms, you quickly turned into an alley, to get home quicker. You looked back, and saw the thugs chasing you into the alley.  
You felt your shoes come into contact with something slippery, and you ungraciously fell into a puddle. Soaking and shivering , you tried to get up and start running again, when you felt a brick weight slam into you. It was the biggest thug of the group. You heard maniacal cackling , as he straddled you and pinned you to the ground. “Oh my little kitten, looks like the dogs are gonna have fun tonight,” he leered, his fully dilated, black beady eyes boring into you.  
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME, you BASTARD! YOU DIRTY PIG, GET OFF !!” you screamed, as you used my legs to knee his groin. The big pig groaned in pain, getting off you. Taking your chances, you scrambled up, mustering all your strength to start running , when something hit your head. Your head throbbed with pain. Immediately , two foreign hands grabbed your arms, and you heard more cackling from at least 6 men. “Oh baby, you have a mouth huh. You’re not going to be talking after you’ve tasted all of us though!” The skinniest thug chortled, as he traced my face with grimy hands. 'Oh God, why was it always me who had to suffer? I bore the brunt of the impact of anything, always. It was always me who suffered. Why couldn’t I have normal life? With normal friends, who looked out for me? Why was I the only one who looked out for myself?' you internally panicked. Feeling hot wisps of panic, tears clouded your vision as you realised your soon too be fate. There was no escape. As usual.

As the men held you while you struggled against them, the biggest one stepped forward, unbuckling his belt. 'This was it. I was the stupidest person alive. I should never have isolated anyone; now when i needed help the most, help wasn’t coming.' Suddenly, the man doubled over in pain as a figure in red and black hit him with a bo staff.  
Holy shit. Red Robin??  
“Fucking get them !!!!” You cheered Red Robin on, as he artfully flipped and knocked the other pigs straight into the ground. The whites of his cowl met mine as his lips quirked into a tiny smirk.  
Sticking out his palm, he helped you up from where you were cowering in.  
“Hope you’re okay. Try not to stay out too late next time.”  
“Sure,” you stammered.  
Inwardly though, you was groaning. If only he’d known the emotional turmoil you had been in today. You had been disowned. Abandoned. Biting back tears, you watched as Red Robin grappled out of the alley.You were alone again. As usual.  
Feeling the tears clould your vision, you sat back down on the ground as the rain poured. You were freezing, but it was the least of your worries.  
How the fuck were you going to get a job? Gotham didn't exactly scream 'economic capital of the world.'  
That’s when you saw it. A shiny black card on the floor. Tentatively, you reached out to grab the card.  
It was a credit card. Squinting your eyes in the dark, you could barely make out the name of the owner.  
Wait.  
Timothy Drake-Wayne?  
The youngest CEO in Gotham. Why the fuck was his card in this dirty alley in the suburbs?  
It was only you, those thugs and Red Robin.  
Then it clicked.  
Drake was Red Robin. That’s why Red Robin was of a small stature  
Red Robin was Tim Drake.  
You had an idea.


	2. scheme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader puts her plan into action!

You painted your lips scarlet red, as you styled your hair into something presentable. You looked at my reflection in the grimy bathroom mirror. High-waisted jeans, a black tank and a red leather jacket wasn’t professional enough to pass off as 'Personal Assistant to Timothy Drake-Wayne' , but you were broke. 'That was an excuse enough,' you huffed to yourself. Leaving the apartment, you mulled over your plan.  
Blackmail Drake. You knew he was Red Robin. In exchange for keeping his identity secret, he would have to hire you as his Personal Assistant and buy you a new, not so crappy apartment. You would be guaranteed a fat paycheck , which could put you through college. And in exchange, he could continue moonlighting as Red Robin.  
I scoffed to myself. Dude was a darn fool. Acting as a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, going through college and acting as a vigilante? All for what? Saving people? Most people didn’t deserve to be saved. 

Brushing off these thoughts, you started the long trek to Wayne Enterprises.  
Great. How do you get an audience with Tim Drake? The CEO of Wayne Enterprises?  
Slightly panicking, you surveyed the lobby of Wayne Enterprises. Clean white walls that were cleaned by underpaid workers. Typical rich people exploitation. There was a group of visitors near the receptionist, collecting visitor passes. They were from Gotham U, on a visit to the top offices of Wayne Enterprises. You snuck to the receptionist table and quickly snatched a visitor’s pass. Choosing to take the elevator instead of the lift, you had a good look around the building. It was swanky and fresh, a far cry from the Narrows and Crime Alley, i.e. the REAL Gotham. Huffing to yourself, you wondered how you were going to confront Tim Drake and threaten to blackmail him, alone. Maybe you could stalk the male restrooms that were near his office. Assuming he did not have a private restroom of his own. Fuck it. You had to try. Drake was on the 36th floor, so you took a detour to the elevator and punched in the number. Suppressing your anxiety at being caught, you closed my eyes and started counting aloud to 10. "1...2... 3... 4-" , “Ding!” the elevator doors opened, forcing me to open my eyes to see who was there. Lo and behold , Tim fucking Drake was staring at you funnily. Oh crap. He realised who you were from yesterday. Feigning ignorance, you averted your gaze from him, leaning against the elevator walls for support. As soon as the lift doors closed, you lunged at Drake, using your whole body weight to pin him against the door. He was taller than you, but hey, nothing new there. “ I know your secret. You’re-” your bombshell was cut off with Drake kicking you in the shin and using your lapse to pin both my arms against the wall. “ Did the League send you? Vicki Vale? The Council- start talking !” He demanded, as you were stared down by a very angry yet very sexy billionaire. “I’m a nobody. Look, I came here because I know you’re Red Robin. I want to make a deal. I keep your secret in exchange for a well-paying, high-ranking job at Wayne Enterprises. I need money for college, Drake. “  
Drake pursed his lips, releasing his grip on me.  
“Okay, but if you out me to Vicki Vale I will kill you.” He warned, blue eyes frigid with anger.  
“Deal,” you smirked. “So, Mr Drake, when can I start?”  
“You can start today as my Personal Assistant, I just need to make some arrangements.”  
The elevator arrived at Drake’s office, and you gasped at the opulence of it. Tall glass windows extending from floor to ceiling overlooked Gotham City. Wayne Enterprises was after all, one of the larger buildings in Gotham. A huge black metallic table sat in the centre of the office by the windows, stacked with paperwork and files. My reflection glistened off the shiny black tiles of the office, which probably cost more than my apartment. Towards the front of the office, there were a couple of red leather sofas which served as seating for guests. Shamelessly, you let out a large sigh as you sat on the luxe sofa. Damn, no wonder the rich were corrupt, if it meant living the high life every second of the day.  
"I need your credit card, sir." All you got was a blank look in return.


	3. choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader settles into her new rich ass apartment ( we can all dream) and gets an unexpected proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have decided to be self indulgent and update.  
> #noshame
> 
> Hope everyone here is doing alright( if there is anyone actually reading this, that is)

You felt the warm sunlight caress your face, amid the frigid temperature of the room. Buried under the comforter, you stretched your toes as you lazily opened your eyes. The room was still freezing cold. Thank you, world-class air conditioning unit. You were in your new apartment. The one which was so generously gifted by Mr Drake. 

Your life was a clusterfuck of bad decisions and bad circumstances. Your dad used to say you were lucky to be born; not born lucky.

Naturally, those words haunted you till today. They were always lingering on the back of your eyelids, waiting to blind your hopes and dreams for the future. Forever.  
Anxiety clawed its way through your veins, as you felt your heart rate pick up and your mind shut down.

What if this ridiculous plan backfired? It could barely be considered a plan. It was just a mismatched scaffolding with no bottom. 

It was still existing because you were caught between being broke or being heavily punished by the wealthiest family in Gotham.

“But when you’re caught between a rock and a hard place? Choose the option with the highest reward. Fight till the end. Don’t trust anyone.” you tried to convince yourself, willing your mind to calm down.

Your purpose was to survive and thrive. You had to succeed with your new job and ensure that Drake wouldn’t cut you off. Otherwise, all your previous efforts would have been wasted. The haters would rejoice. 

Last but not least? You were tired of never coming up on top. It would change. You would make sure of it. No matter the cost. 

Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of the new bed. It was the softest, bounciest bed you had ever had the pleasure of using. It was fitted with black satin pillowcases and sheets.

Drake’s idea of insulting your black, wretched heart, you giggled to yourself.

Trudging your way to the bathroom, you wearily opened the door.  
Sighing, you critiqued your appearance in the mirror. Unkempt, ratty hair. Tired eyes that were squinting to stay awake. White tank top that revealed a little too much. Plain black briefs.

“Hmmphh!!” you let out a muffled scream as someone grabbed you, covering your mouth with one hand, the other holding you in a chokehold.

“Quiet, girl! You are Drake’s new assistant, yes? Work for us; spy on him and you will be rewarded with whatever you want.” the masked assassin said, as he removed his hand from your mouth.

“Ye-Yes, I will.” you begged.

Releasing you from his chokehold, he ordered, “11pm, two days from now. Do not be late.” before jumping out of the huge window next to the bathtub.

Crazy bastard, why can’t he just leave through the door like a normal person? Oh right, because he is NOT a normal person, you bantered with yourself.

“Fuck, I’m lonely.” you whispered to yourself, as you removed your clothes and got into the shower.

You were going to consider the guy’s proposal.


	4. attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim comes to your apartment. You plan on telling him about the proposal from the League, but things take an unexpected(but welcome) turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's smut here ummmm I didn't expect it to happen but it did. So you can skip here if its not for you:)  
> Thanks for reading this self-indulgent pile of loving Tim Drake <3

While your scrubbing yourself off in the shower, under steaming hot water that compensated for your lack of emotional stimulation, you heard your apartment door ring. 

Ignoring it, you went back to humming the latest song from your favourite artist.

The incessant ringing of the doorbell interrupted your enjoyment. Rolling your eyes and huffing a curse, you turned off the shower. 

Well, you had been showering for a good forty-five minutes, for no reason other than to enjoy the steaming hot water and expensive soaps you had bought earlier from LUSH.

Stepping into your black satin bathrobe right off the shower, you went to the door. Looking through the peephole, a familiar figure blessed your eyes. The impeccable Tom Ford suit, those windswept black bangs that framed his icy eyes. Sharp but straight nose. All on the flawless porcelain canvas of his smooth skin. You imagined how warm his body would be next to yours, how smooth it would writhing against your skin. Imagined mapping the scars that undoubtedly chartered across his abs.

Yes, Drake was a rich, entitled prick. But he was a  _ sexy  _ entitled rich prick, who had basically fulfilled the role of a sugar daddy; well, without you having to provide him with  _ sugar  _ of any sorts.

_ Not that I would mind, _ you thought, before you pushed it aside.

This was not the time for being horny, you reminded yourself. Especially not with someone way out of your league AND whom you were blackmailing.

“Drake.” you greeted, stone-faced as you opened the door for him. You could not betray that you were literally getting wet just from thinking about his body. 

“Y/N. I’m afraid your little _ vacation _ is over. I’ll need you to report to work tomorrow, at eight o’clock sharp in the morning.” Sarcasm dripped like honey off his smooth voice. 

It was needless to say that you were very inappropriately attracted to some guy you met a few days ago. But money being deposited in your bank account was your kink, you joked to yourself, trying to ignore how smouldering he looked today.

To say it backfired would be an understatement. Instead of giving Drake a straight answer, you awkwardly ogled at his features, while he waited at the doorway. You hadn’t even invited him into the apartment  _ which he had bought you _ .  _ Stupid _ . You chided yourself.

Before retorting with a sassy comeback, you noticed Drake’s eyes were on your chest. 

Oh shit. Your nipples were _ erect.  _ Not just because you came out of the best shower of your life, but also because you were having inappropriate, sexual thoughts about him. And erect nipples really did make an impression against black satin.

_ Your extraness would be the death of you _ , you lamented to yourself.

Before you could stop your stupid impulsive brain, you mouthed off.

“Like what you see?”

Drake’s eyes narrowed like that of a snake. He set his jaw, as his face was overtaken by a stormy expression. Without warning, he barged into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Grabbing your arm with the brute force that he would use on criminals, he pushed you against the wall, pressing his body flush against yours.

He towered over you, eyes boring into your soul.

He was trying to intimidate you. He was also assessing your reaction.

Your eyes widened with shock. You never expected him to use brute force on a civilian. 

But you weren’t just any civilian. You were a civilian who knew his identity and used it to  _ blackmail _ him.

Your whole life, you had never been as physically close to someone as you were to him now.

His suit was warm compared to your flimsy robe. You could feel his body heat, and it was a damn good feeling. Blood rushed through your entire being. It was like stepping into a warm household in the midst of a harsh winter. It was new, but it felt right. It weirdly felt like you belonged there, flush against his body, eyes boring into the other’s.

Feeling him just physically close to you seemed to compensate from your lack of emotional comfort. It was probably because of how touch-starved you were. 

But you  _ craved _ more.

Your entire being wanted him. You wanted somebody who gave two shits about you. You wanted somebody who provided for you in every way possible.

You knew it was a damn bad, impulsive, lizard-brained idea. Drake was obviously not interested. He didn’t know who Y/N was two days ago. Irrational ideas and thoughts never stopped you though.

Impulse was impulse; it was instinct, that you never could suppress.

Before you could change your mind, you surged upwards, capturing his lips in a clumsy kiss.

You didn’t really know what you were doing, but it was not a new feeling.

Drake’s whole body stiffened, lips unmoving like marble against yours.

You were about to give up and maybe leave Gotham City for good after the colossal embarrassment of being rejected, when Drake suddenly grabbed your wrists, pinned your arms above your head and shoved his leg between your open thighs.

Furiously, he bit your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You gasped, from the sheer shock of Drake reciprocating your horny feelings for him. 

He could have had anyone he wanted, so why you?

Drake pulled back for a second, “ Call me Tim,” before resuming his vicious assault on your mouth again. Descending upon your neck, you let out a shameful moan. 

You had never felt this kind of euphoria rushing through your entire being. Life hadn’t been easy for you, and it was never fulfilling to always be worrying or planning for the future. Right now? You were truly living in the moment, enjoying yourself and doing something entirely of your own accord. I

t felt  _ liberating _ . 

Suddenly, Tim expertly unwrapped your bathrobe, leaving you stark naked, writhing under him. Despite being young, he maneuvered with the experience of a seasoned playboy. 

Cupping your sex with his bare hands, he delved two fingers into your pussy, feeling up your clit, all while looking you in your eyes.

Your face burned up, as you never were really comfortable with intimacy. It was rather embarrassing and it made you feel immensely vulnerable to unravel right before Tim’s heated gaze.

Averting his gaze, you turned your head away from his and tried to control your moans. You had read many smut fanfiction in your lifetime, but you never expected the real experience to just feel so  _ good _ .

“Look at me, Y/N”, Tim’s husky voice commanded, before he roughly gripped your face with his hands and tilted it towards his face.

Your legs turned to jelly, as he massaged your clit at the right spot , while simultaneously sucking a hickey into your neck. The shame of being stark naked against his fully clothed self heightened your pleasure.

Without warning, Tim knelt down, wrapping your legs around his face as he slipped his tongue in between your folds. Before you could tell him that he was doing too much, you bit out a curse as he sucked and bit you  _ there _ .

The waves of pleasure rolling through your body reached an all time high as you came for the first time in your life.

Tim, however, wasn’t one for aftercare. Instead of offering you any sort of clothing, he unceremoniously dropped you on the floor, used and needy for more.

“I expect you to return the favour next time.” He said, devouring your shaking figure. Scrambling to regain some dignity after what just happened, you quickly draped your bathrobe over your body, “Of course, Mr Drake.”

A ghost of a smirk rolled across his face, as he opened the door and slammed it close.

_ What the fuck just happened? Were you still a virgin? Or did that count as sex? Why did he have sex with you? _

Questions raced through your mind as you struggled to gain composure. You had never been so reckless in your life, while still living under your father’s roof.

But you knew, that pain did crazy things to people. And you weren’t the only one in pain.

You stood up, feeling an aching soreness in your legs, courtesy of the tryst that just happened. 

Sighing at your stupidity and knack for making wrong decisions, you berated yourself. How were you going to face him tomorrow, at work? And you still needed to tell him about the proposal sent by the League. 

_ You would’ve told him, if you hadn’t run your mouth and ended up having sex with the most powerful young bachelor in Gotham.  _

The thought sent a thrill to your core, as you struggled to keep your sex drive in line. Deciding to take a cold shower to clear your head and clean up, you headed to the shower.

You needed a strategy to remain important to Tim, or you would end up on the streets. A good first step would be to tell him about the League and offer to be a spy for him. But first, a thorough shower was in order.


End file.
